


What Dreams May Come

by Lovetart77



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-23
Updated: 2007-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovetart77/pseuds/Lovetart77
Summary: It's a busy weekend at the Burrow. A wedding is taking place. And Ron is trying to figure out how, exactly, to tell Hermione he's loved her for a decade.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Ron felt the bright sunlight trying to get underneath his eyelids, but he was not quite ready to be fully awake yet. _Not yet._ He turned over and burrowed his head beneath the soft fleecy blanket with a sigh. He wanted to lay there for a bit longer, basking in the remnants of the wickedly gorgeous dream he’d been having. The smell of sizzling bacon and coffee tickled his nose but he would have gladly forgone food to finish that dream. He allowed his mind drift back. She had been wearing that soft looking white sundress again and when she had turned to smile over her shoulder at him, the thin white strap had fallen down her arm. Sunshine had glinted off her hair and he remembered the silky feel of it beneath his fingers, against his cheek. He reached out to her, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her to him. She had smiled that sexy secret smile again, looking so delicious. Those luscious lips had opened and the sweetness of her voice washed over him…..

“What did the cat do with my bloody socks this time?”

Ron’s eyes snapped open and he focused blearily on Harry, who was banging around the room and muttering some truly evil expletives which were all aimed, Ron assumed, at Crookshanks. For some reason that blasted cat had an infatuation with Harry’s socks and would drag them from one end of the house to the other and hiss at anyone who tried to take them from him.

“Damn it Harry, do you need to be in here right now?” Ron scowled at his friend. _Just let me dive back into sleep...fucking dive back into **her.**_

“Sorry mate, but I’ve looked everywhere else and… a-ha!” Harry jumped up from where he had been looking under Ron’s bed, triumphantly holding up a pair of clean, albeit frayed socks. 

“At least there isn’t a hole chewed clear through this pair.” he mumbled, balancing on one foot to pull the socks on. 

Ron yawned mightily and stretched his long body until his back cracked. He threw an amused look at Harry.

“You’d best not let Hermione hear you talking that way about her beloved Crookshanks.” 

“Reckon you’re right. You know how she adores him.”.

“I know _how_ , I just have no idea _why._ ”

Harry laughed in agreement while Ron lay back with his hands folded behind his head. Looking out the window of his bedroom, he saw that it was a gorgeous day. The sunshine streaming through the curtains felt warm on his face. He closed his eyes with a sigh of contentment. _It’s good to be home._

“You planning on sleeping the day away, Ron?” Harry asked as he walked towards the doorway.

“A few more minutes would have been nice.”

“Dreaming lovely dreams, were we?”

“Why do you say that?”

“A word of advice, mate. I’d take a cold shower before joining the rest of us downstairs.” And with that Harry disappeared through the doorway a scant second before Ron’s pillow would have hit him squarely in the head. 

Ron scowled at the empty space. But fuck it all, Harry was right. He looked down at his crotch. _I’d cause quite the stir if I came to the breakfast table in this condition_. Damn those dreams anyway. Those lips. And oh, how he dreamed of what those luscious lips were capable of doing…..

Ron shook his head and had to laugh at himself. _Mind out of the gutter, Weasley._ Here he was a star Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, successful and independent . But at times he still felt like the awkward teenager he once was - the one who had let something so precious slip through his scared fingers. _I was so bloody stupid._ He could now have his pick of any number of eager females and yet the only one who stirred his dreams so often was the one he still didn’t have; had never really had, much to his everlasting regret. 

Hermione.

The one thing he wanted more than anything else in this world was also the one thing he was absolutely terrified to ask for. The fear stemmed from several things, he had discovered. Fear of being rejected, fear of making a fool of himself. But most of all, fear of somehow altering their friendship, a friendship that was so deep and unique and he was worried he would boggle it up if he tried to push for more. He almost had, in the days after Dumbledore’s funeral. But that had been such an uncertain time, with so many things hanging above their heads. It just had not been right. Ron began to wonder when the time would _ever_ be right. But there was one thing he _was_ sure of .That day on the train so long ago had changed his life forever. At the same time she had cheekily informed Ron of the smudge on his nose, she had also stolen a tiny piece of his heart. 

Over the years since then she had steadily taken more and more of it until Ron realized, not surprisingly, that it was wholly in her possession. He loved her. No question about it. He loved her for so many reasons he couldn’t count them all. Her sharp mind, her eagerness to learn, her loyalty to her friends, her innate sense of fairness. Over the span of their acquaintance, those very qualities had each driven him batty at one time or another but without them, she simply wouldn’t be Hermione. And then of course there was the matter of her velvety brown eyes, her gorgeous smile, the little crinkle of her forehead when she looked at him like he was nutters. Damn he wanted to kiss her just there every time she did it. Those were all very essential pieces of her also. All in all, Hermione was one brilliant package and God, she could stir him. Like nobody else, his Hermione could ignite him. Sometimes with just a simple look or a wild gesture of her hands when they were in the middle of a spectacular row and all he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her senseless. Kiss her, taste her, until there was no more disagreements, no more fighting, no more of anything but his mouth on her mouth, his hands on her body, and his cock buried to the hilt , deep inside of her.

Ron swung his legs over the side of his bed with a groan. He’d best get up. This weekend was going to be busy. This momentous weekend when George Weasley was finally settling down and getting married. The wedding was taking place tomorrow, here at the Burrow, as all the family weddings had.

“Ronald Weasley, if you don’t come down here soon, there will be no breakfast for you!” his mum’s voice reached him from downstairs.

“I’ll be there in a second.” he called back before getting out of bed and collecting his things for a quick shower. **Not** a cold one, as Harry had suggested. A nice hot, steamy one where he could think back upon that dream again and perhaps-

“Ron, are you coming?”

__

Sadly, no.

__

“Yes, mum.” He took back his earlier contentment to be back home. Ron had forgotten how it was here, never having five seconds to yourself without someone needing something, barging in, being a nuisance. He missed his lovely spacious, **quiet** flat. He left his room and made his way to the bathroom, reaching for the door handle and thinking he was definitely going to cast a locking and muffling spell on the door just so he could have **five fucking minutes** of peace and quiet to himself, when the knob turned under his hand and the door swung open. 

There stood she, the very object of his desires and she was wrapped in only a towel that didn’t even reach her knees. _Merlin, give me strength._ Hermione jumped and her eyes widened momentarily before narrowing with annoyance as she smacked him hard on the shoulder.

“Ow! Are you mental, woman? What was that for?” Ron scowled at her.

“For startling me!” 

“I didn’t have a bloody clue you were in there-”

“Oh shut it. I didn’t really hurt you, did I?” she reached out to rub the spot where her palm had connected with his skin. Ron raised his eyebrow at her. _Oh yes, love, I’m in agony. I’m fucking aching for you and it’s driving me batty._ But once again he resorted to humor to cover his true feelings. He’d been doing it forever. Affecting a mock frown, he pulled his eyebrows low.

“Why yes, as a matter of fact you did hurt me. In fact I **may** be permanently injured and may **not** be able to play on Tuesday and you may have **just possibly** ruined my whole career and-”

“Oh, honestly Ron, don’t be such a baby. You’ve certainly had worse.” she shook her wet hair back from her face which again brought to his attention the fact that she had just stepped from the shower,. Ron swallowed hard. _God, this is pure torture, being so close to her while she is so close to being naked._ Snippets of the dream played in his mind and he felt himself stirring to life once more. _Merlin, not now please when she’s two fucking feet away. Get a hold of yourself, mate._ As nonchalantly as he could manage, he lowered his shaving kit to shield the front of his pyjama bottoms.

“Ron? Are you alright?” she cocked her head to look at him, questioningly.

__

No, not at all. And the only thing that will cure me is shagging you senseless.

__

“Fine.” he nodded briskly. “Are you finally done in there, then?”

“Yes, I’m finished. See you at breakfast?”

“Yeah, breakfast.”

With a nod, she swept past him and down the hall to her room, which was in fact Ginny’s old room. Hermione was staying the weekend for the wedding too. Ron watched her go, admiring the sheen of her damp skin, the bounce of her gently rounded hips under the towel. He went in the bathroom and closed the door, leaning back against it and letting out a deep breath. The air was still humid from her shower and scented with the lemon soap she favored. _God, she had looked delicious, so fresh and clean_. _I’d love to make her all dirty again, sweating and gasping my name_. Over the years, they had stayed at each other’s flats countless times, were together more often than they were apart. The bathroom in Ron’s flat even had a shelf cleared just for Hermione and all her girlish accessories, just as the spare wardrobe at her place was filled with his things. So it was not as if he had never her seen her wrapped in just a towel before. He had. The sight of her so scantily clad always stirred him, but this morning it had hit him especially hard, because of that **blasted fucking dream**. It was still so fresh in his mind. He shook his head. _Just accept it Weasley. This is going to be a cold shower after all._ He turned the water on and stepped under the frigid spray with a curse.

After showering and dressing, Ron entered the kitchen to the mouthwatering smell of fresh scones.. Swiping one off the tray on the table he sat down across from Harry, who smiled innocently at him. _Prat._

“Feeling more awake now, Ron?”

“Awake enough to kick your arse, Potter. Pass the butter.”

“Tsk, tsk. Language, Ronald.” Harry said, passing the butter, and it was such a dead on perfect imitation of Hermione that Ron laughed so hard he almost choked. Laughing, Harry reached across and slapped Ron on the back. “Careful there, mate.”

“Where is everyone, mum?” Ron asked, reaching for another scone and some bacon. Mrs. Weasley turned from the sink where she was directing the plates into the soapy water.

“Your father and George are out in the garden, ridding us of the last -I hope- of the gnomes. Stubborn little creatures. Bill and Fleur and their brood are coming in later today, as are Fred and Angelina and Charlie and Judith and the baby. Percy said he’d stop by this morning-“

“How lovely for us,” Ron scowled.

“Ronald, please try to behave yourself. He _is_ your brother and he _is_ trying to make amends. I’d like to see you on your best behavior, for George’s sake, if no one else’s.”

Ron sighed in irritation but this _was_ a family wedding after all and he didn’t want to cause any ruckus.

“Alright Mum. I suppose I can stop my fork from wandering into his eye. For George’s sake.”

“Thank you. Now where was I? Oh yes, Hermione is upstairs getting changed and Ginny is-“

“Right here.” Ginny said from the doorway, making her way slowly to the table. Harry immediately jumped up and pulled out a chair for his very pregnant wife. Ginny sank gratefully into it with a sigh.

“How are you feeling, Gin?” Ron asked. “Taking good care of my nephew?”

“Why are you so positive it’s a boy, Ron?”

“You know boys run in the family, Ginny. Mum didn’t get her girl until number seven, after all.”

“Yeah, well maybe this next generation will bring a change to all that.” Ginny replied with smile and a thankful look for her husband, who was rubbing her back. He leaned in to say something softly in her ear and she laughed quietly, laying her head on his shoulder.

Observing them, Ron smiled. _Things are as they should be with those two._ He couldn’t have asked for a better man for his little sister. Harry and Ginny shared something extremely deep and precious and it was obvious to anyone who spent two minutes in their company that they adored each other. Just then Harry laughed in delight as the baby kicked under his palm. Ginny grimaced.

“Does the little bugger have to use my ribcage to sharpen his kicking skills?” 

Harry leaned down and pressed his ear to Ginny’s belly, apparently listening. He nodded several times and finally looked up at his wife.

“He apologizes to his mummy for his atrocious aim, but you see it’s getting very cramped in there. Close quarters, you know.”

“Don’t I know it.” Ginny laughed. “He’ll be making his debut very soon, I hope.”

Hermione appeared in the doorway in time to catch Ginny’s words.

“So you are convinced it’s a boy as well, then?” She sat down with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands and Ron let his eyes wander over her. She had dressed in a pale pink top and a denim skirt that came to just above her knees. Her hair was still damp and curled loosely about her shoulders. She looked gorgeous to Ron’s hungry eyes and again he felt that jolt of need for her. Maybe it was seeing Harry and Ginny so happy together, but it made him yearn for that same kind of happiness. He noticed she had applied a light sheen of juicy looking gloss to her lips. _I wonder how they taste. Merlin, I want to kiss her... first her lips, then her cheek and then that little curve where her shoulder meets her neck_. His hands fisted tightly under the table, out of sight. _Fuck, she looks so bloody edible._

“Well Ron seems absolutely sure it is. I’m not caring if it’s a boy or girl as long as **he or she** stops trying to puncture my organs with their little toes.” Ginny said in response to Hermione’s query.

“Just a few more weeks, love.” Harry said, encouragingly. 

The rest of the morning passed quickly, all of them aiding in the preparations for the upcoming wedding. Ginny and Hermione were helping Mrs. Weasley with the floral center-pieces. Harry and Ron were in charge of setting up tables and chairs in the yard. Mr. Weasley and George, having finally flung out the last gnome, had gone to pick up the dress robes. Percy arrived mid morning and was immediately dispatched to the bakery to check on the cake and make sure it would be delivered bright and early the next day. Bill and Fleur stopped in at lunch with the triplets. Georgie, Jane and Stephen were delighted to see their uncles Harry and Ron and their aunties Ginny and Hermione, whom they had long regarded as an auntie since she was practically family. Georgie and Stephen were made to feel extremely important when the boys included them by asking for their help in placing the chairs around the tables and praising their efforts. Jane, meanwhile, was busy making a flower garland that both Ginny and Hermione exclaimed was the absolute perfect thing for Crookshanks to wear to the wedding. They were the most precocious six year olds, and took their duties quite seriously.

The rest of the family tickled in throughout the day, including George’s fiancee Samantha, who had spent most of the morning at the dressmakers for her final fitting.

Looking around at everyone gathered, Ron had to smile. His family may not be the most traditional but they were his. Even Percy, he conceded. There was never a dull moment, to be sure. His eyes fell on Hermione, who was at the moment cooing to baby Noah. Charlie’s six week old little boy was laying on a blanket in the shade of a tall willow. Hermione was tickling his chubby cheek with a bright ribbon, as he gurgled and laughed, his tiny arms flailing. Charlie’s wife Judith was also nearby, watching Noah with motherly pride but Ron’s eyes never strayed from Hermione.

_She’s so gorgeous, so incredible, and so completely unaware of how desperately I want her. And just look at her with Noah. She’d make a great mum._ An image suddenly danced through Ron’s mind, an image of Hermione and an adorable little girl with auburn curls. _I want to make babies with her._

“Hey, mate.”

Ron glanced up as Harry sat down on the chair next to him.

“Ginny has sent me on a mission.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“She actually wanted to come over here herself but Fleur has her cornered so she sent me instead. She wants to know, and I quote, when in the world are you going to stop drooling after Hermione and just bloody well tell her you’re in love with her?”

Ron nearly spit out a mouthful of pumpkin juice. He was just grateful they were out of earshot of everyone else

Harry-” he started. 

“Ron, you know I avoid conversations like this, about whatever it is that’s between you and Hermione. But if I don’t come over here and at least pretend to ask you about it, Ginny will probably do something drastic, like lock you two in a cupboard together. She’s quite emotional these days. So don’t shoot the messenger, eh?”

Ron smiled, knowing first hand just how determined his baby sister could be. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign he was on edge.

“So…… are you going to say anything to her?” Harry asked. 

Ron shot him a scowl. “I thought you wanted to stay out of this?”

“I do but you two are my best mates. I want to see you both happy. And Ginny is convinced-“

“Harry, this is **Hermione** we are talking about. You know how she is. She’ll analyze to death anything I say. Why do you think I’ve not said anything yet? And what if she doesn’t feel the same? I’ll make a bloody fool of myself.”

“But you _do_ love her.” It was a statement more than a question.

“You know I do. I always have. If only I knew what she was thinking.” he murmured, half to himself. After a minute, Harry broke the silence by speaking softly, yet firmly.

“Ron, I think you know her better than anyone else. You’ve loved her for a decade, after all.”

With those words, he stood and rejoined his wife, leaving Ron to ponder. He did love her, would always love her. He was only scared that if she did not return his feelings, his declaration would dramatically alter things between them. He would rather have her friendship than have nothing at all but there was just no denying he wanted so much more. He wanted all of her. Forever. Only how the hell was he supposed to tell her all of this? _Fucking fuck._ This romantic stuff was just not something he was good at. He glanced over at her again. God, she was gorgeous, so incredibly amazing, his Hermione. She happened to look up just then and caught him gazing at her. She cocked her head at him, asking without words if he was alright. He gave a smile and a slight nod before looking away, scared that she would be able to read in his gaze of the struggle inside him. And knowing Hermione, if she sensed something was wrong she would of course question him and that was just something he could not handle right now.

Another image suddenly danced through his mind.

__

Hermione was curled up against the window on the train, her chin resting on her upraised knees. School was over, Dumbledore’s funeral just hours past and they were on their way to the Dursley’s. Harry was gone on the pretense of getting pumpkin juice but Ron was pretty sure he had just wanted to be alone. His gaze rested on the girl across from him. She was staring out the window at the scenery rushing past but he knew she wasn’t seeing any of it. Suddenly, she lifted her head to him. Her eyes were still red rimmed from the many tears she had shed the past few days. Her voice was soft.

__

“Nothing is ever going to be the same again, is it?” 

__

She looked ready to burst into tears again and Ron did the only thing he could think of. He crossed the narrow gap between their two seats and sat next to her, pulling her into a rough hug. 

__

“I’m scared, Ron. I’m scared for Harry, for us, our families. I’m scared of so many things right now.”

__

“I know, Mione.” He was at a loss for how to comfort her when he was feeling lost himself. She felt very small cuddled against him, small and fragile. His arms tightened. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her what he felt for her, that it went way beyond friendship. But she was in such a state he didn’t want to add one more thing for her to worry about. So he tamped down the urge and instead pulled back to look at her.

__

“You know what, Mione?”

__

“What?”

__

“Things aren’t always going to be such a mess. Remember that.”

__

Ron smiled slightly, thinking of that long ago afternoon. That was the closest he had ever came to admitting what was in his heart. The next few years had been very uncertain and fearful. But he had been right about one thing. There **had** came a day when things were no longer such a mess. A wave of possessiveness washed through him, shockingly strong The time was now. He was going to tell her but the only question that remained was how? How to make that gorgeous wicked dream of his a reality? How was he going to let her know that she was the most important thing in the world to him, that she was the first thing he thought about when he woke in the morning and the last in his thoughts as he drifted of to sleep?


	2. Chapter 2

“Hermione, pass me that pumpkin juice, will you? Hermione?”

Hermione blinked and her gaze settled on Harry, who was looking at her questioningly.

“I’m sorry, Harry. Er, what did you say?”

“Can you pass me that pitcher of pumpkin juice?”

“Oh, of course.”

She handed over the glass pitcher with a slight blush, feeling foolish to be caught daydreaming. But it was very hard not to, not when the object of her daydreams was sitting not five feet away and she felt his blue gaze resting on her quite frequently. Every time it happened she felt a warm shiver spread through her. She noticed Ron had been quite quiet during dinner which was odd. Almost the whole family was gathered on this special night, the night before George and Samantha’s wedding. There was lots of laughter and teasing and chatting but Ron didn’t join in as he normally would. He seemed to be brooding about something. 

And, she willingly admitted that even when he was brooding he was still so handsome. Well downright sexy, really. Those lips of his, _oh my_ , her gaze was drawn to them again and again as he ate distractedly. She yearned for a smile to curve those lips. She loved his smiles, the way his whole face lit up and his blue eyes sparkled at her. When he smiled she was reminded of the little boy she had met so long ago. The little boy that had grown into the most incredibly appealing man she’d ever met. 

Ron happened to glance up just then and caught her studying him. He frowned. “Have I got something on my face, Hermione?” 

She said the first thing that came to mind. “What?” No, I was just…um…just thinking that you need a haircut.” _Oh that was brilliant, Granger._

“Oh, okay.”

Hermione returned her attention to the food on her plate, aware of the curious look Harry was shooting her way but refusing to acknowledge it. Her insides were doing flips again, a feeling she had became quite accustomed to. It happened at the oddest moments, really. Just a glance from Ron or an innocent touch of his hand on her arm and the butterflies in her belly whirled. She’d thought after all this time the intense reactions would fade at least a little. But they hadn’t. She had just grown a bit better at hiding them. It was a necessity really, since she was around him so much. 

Ginny’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“Hermione, would you mind helping me for a minute? I need to go change my shoes. My feet are starting to swell a bit.”

“I’ll help you, love.” Harry started to rise but his very pregnant wife motioned him back down again.

“No, no you finish eating. Hermione will help me, won’t you?”

“Of course, Ginny.” Hermione was a bit puzzled, but Ginny’s mood swings were very unpredictable these days and Harry was forever telling Hermione about how he unknowingly set her off all the time. So perhaps Ginny just needed to talk to another woman right now. She stood and walked with her friend up the stairs to the bedroom that the young married couple was sharing. It was Percy’s old bedroom, the one that had a view of the front garden. Hermione was staying in Ginny’s old room down the hall.

“Which shoes do you want, Gin?” she asked as the other woman sat on the bed with a grateful sigh.

“Oh, those pink slippers will be fine, thanks.” 

As Hermione went to retrieve the slippers from the closet, Ginny thought about the best way to broach a certain subject.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?” came the muffled reply, as Hermione was halfway into the closet trying to find the errant slippers. She backed her way out and pushed the hair out of her eyes. “What is it?”

“It’s about Ron.”

Hermione’s heartbeat sped a little faster at just the mention of his name. She cleared her throat.

“What about Ron?”

“You’re in love with him.”

Hermione blinked in shock. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

“There’s no use in denying it. I know you too well. I’ve held my tongue for a long time, hoping you two would find your way to each other on your own. But that hasn’t happened so what I want to know is what are you planning on doing about it?”

“Doing about it?” Hermione echoed weakly. _Oh Merlin, does Ron know?_

“Yes. My dolt of a brother cannot be replied upon to make the first move here so I say it’s up to you. I’ve asked for Harry’s help and he tried, but you know what he’s like when it comes to the two of you, he avoids any sort of a discussion about your **feelings**. Ron’s his best mate and I guess he feels a certain touch of loyalty. So anyway, what are you going to do?”

Hermione sank weakly onto the bed next to Ginny. Her head was spinning.

“Ginny, do you think Ron knows?” she finally asked softly, her cheeks heated.

“Hermione, I would never presume to think I know what’s going on in that one’s head.”

“Oh God! What on earth am I going to do?” She flung herself back on the bed and contemplated the ceiling as if the plaster held some sort of an answer.

“How long, Hermione?”

“How long have I loved your brother?” she laughed a bit wildly. “What seems like forever; do you remember the Yule Ball? Since before then, even. Here I am, _supposedly_ such a clever witch, with a hopeless yearning for my best friend! How pathetic am I?”

“Hermione, you’re not pathetic at all! And why is it hopeless?”

“Oh come on Ginny. You and I both know Ron. When he sees something he wants, he goes for it. Always has. It’s just the way he is. So I have to assume he doesn’t want me, not in that way, or he would have said **something** wouldn’t he? I mean, he caught me practically naked this morning! That would have been the perfect opportunity, don’t you think?” Hermione heard the tinge of hysteria in her own voice and took a slow deep breath. 

“What??”

“I was coming out of the shower and I only had a towel wrapped around me. I didn’t know he was awake yet.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I don’t think it’s hopeless at all, and I’ll tell you why.”

Hermione sat up and looked at Ginny.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“What do you mean?”

“When he thinks no one is watching, of course. I even sent Harry to ask him about it.”

Hermione’s heart nearly stopped beating. “What?” she exclaimed, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“All Harry said when he got back was that it really wasn’t any of our business and Ron is a grown man and blah blah blah. As much as I adore him, Harry has no talent for talking about those kinds of things. With other people of course. When it comes to us, I swear he can tell me things that utterly melt me. I know he seems so quiet and steady but my Harry can positively make steam rise from me if he sets his mind to it. Which is exactly what got me in this position in the first place.” Ginny gestured to her belly. “But I digress. We were talking about you and Ron. So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan? Ginny, I don’t have a plan. Every time I even think about something happening between the two of us, my palms start to sweat. You asked me how long I’ve loved him? Almost from the start. Yes, we were both children but from the beginning we had to deal with things that a lot of adults couldn’t handle. And Ron was always so steadfast and determined. When I **truly** started wanting more than friendship from him, somewhere around third year, it terrified me. He’s one of my best friends, someone who knows all of my secrets, someone who has seen me at my worst, seen me fall apart. Ginny, if I tell him all of this and he doesn’t feel the same then our friendship will be as good as flushed down the loo.”

“I know, Hermione. But you have to ask yourself if he’s worth the risk. Do you really want to always wonder what might have been? Take my situation with Harry. Remember how he was trying to be all gallant by breaking up with me so I wouldn’t be in danger? Well, it worked for a little while. But then I realized that no matter what, I wanted to be with him. I was constantly terrified of something happening to him, to all of you, back then. But I wanted him to know I would be waiting for him. And I can honestly say it was the best decision I’ve ever made. So if you think that my brother is worth the risk, then I’ll be happy to help you any way I can. Now, we should be getting back, they’re going to start wondering if I haven’t gone into labour or something.”

Hermione stood and followed Ginny back towards the dining room, her mind awhirl with a thousand questions. She had no doubt that Ron was worth the risk. It was herself she was worried about. Hermione had faced down dark wizards, Death Eaters, even Voldemort himself. But when it came to this, she was terrified. Terrified of losing one of the most true and loyal friendships she’d ever had. She sank onto a footstool in the living room, not ready to face everyone at the table again; afraid they’d all know by the gobsmacked look on her face that she was harboring a secret love. Especially Ron. _God, I love him but what am I going to do?_

“Hermione?”

She snapped her head up and saw him standing there, his blue eyes filled with concern.

“Are you all right? Ginny came back alone and the brat wouldn’t tell me where you’d gone. I was a bit worried.”

“Oh! I’m fine, Ron. Just a bit tired is all.” She tried to smile naturally but he looked so handsome in his faded denims and untucked blue Oxford her mouth went dry. The material of the shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and the sleeves were rolled up, revealing his strong forearms. _He’s so big, so solid, and what I wouldn’t give for him to be mine._ She suddenly felt flushed once more.

“Mum’s made bread pudding. Do you want any?”

“I’m not sure I have any room. Your mum’s cooking is always so good and I’m afraid I’ve made a glutton of myself, as usual.”

“How ‘bout we split some, then? I can’t pass it up so I’ll share with you.”

He disappeared back into the kitchen before she could stop him. Hermione quickly went over her options. Dare she do as Ginny suggested; set the ball rolling so to speak? But how? It was absurd to think of “flirting” with Ron. He knew her too well. If she suddenly turned coy, he’d think she was mental and wouldn’t be afraid to tell her so. Oh God, was she really even contemplating this? How in the world would she be able to pull it off? This was **Ron,** who probably thought of her as a sister. Yuck. She couldn’t do it. She was going to get up and-

“Mmmm, there’s just nothing better than mum’s warm bread pudding.” Ron smiled and dropped cross legged onto the floor in front of where she was perched on the footstool. The delicious scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifted up from the bowl he held in his hands. _Such big hands. I wonder how it would feel to be touched by them._ Hermione’s heart skipped. 

“Damn, I forgot to get you a spoon. Mind sharing?” Ron asked, holding up the single spoon.

“No, not at all,”.It seemed suddenly more intimate than the thousand other times they had done the same thing. Ron lifted a spoonful of pudding to his lips and hummed in pleasure.

“Merlin, that’s good. Here, have some.”

He handed her the spoon and as she ate a bite, her gaze strayed to his mouth once more. Such a gorgeous mouth, so sensuously curved. She swallowed hard and dropped the spoon back into the bowl so he could have another taste. She knew Molly Weasley’s bread pudding ranked among the finest there was, but at the moment it barely registered. She’d much rather feast on Molly Weasley’s son. A blush lit her cheeks and she cleared her throat, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Where is everyone?” 

“Mum’s cleaning up the kitchen and everyone else has gone outside. Dad wants to test out the new enchanted fairy lights for tomorrow night.”

“Maybe I should help your mother.”

“She’s fine, Hermione. You know Mum’s always happiest in the kitchen, whether it be cooking in there or cleaning in there.”

Hermione personally thought Ron’s mum was in the kitchen all the time more out of necessity than love. With seven children, including six hungry boys, it was where she spent the majority of the day. 

“Still, she worked so hard on dinner so perhaps I should-”

Just then they hard the back door slam and quietness suddenly enveloped the house.

“See?” Ron smiled. “She’s gone out to the garden, too. Now we’re the only ones here.”

The words seem to hang in the air between them. Ron offered her another bite of pudding but she shook her head.

“I truly don’t have any room left.”

“Oh come on, just one more bite. I’ve eaten almost all of it.” He nudged her lips with the spoon and Hermione didn’t have any other choice but to open her mouth. As she licked the dessert from the spoon she happened to glance up and her gaze collided with his. Wide, startled brown met warm, burning blue. His eyes dropped to peruse her mouth and Hermione felt the caress as real as if it hand been his lips touching her there. She swallowed hard and cast about for something, **anything** to say to break the not quite awkward silence.

“Er, how’s George doing? Is he nervous, do you think?”

Ron’s eyes snapped back up to hers and she may have been crazy but she thought his cheeks turned the tiniest bit pink. _Is he blushing?_

“George?”

“Yes, is he nervous? About the wedding tomorrow?”

“Ah, I don’t think so. He and Samantha have been together for a long time. I think he’s more nervous about having Muggles as in-laws.” Ron smiled and Hermione did too. Samantha was Muggle-born, the same as Hermione. “Well not nervous exactly, just not sure what all to expect, is all.

“I’m sure it will all be grand. Her mum and dad seem like very nice people.”

“Yeah.”

“What time is the game on Tuesday?”

“Three o’clock. You’ll be there, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. I’ve not missed a game of yours in ages, especially since you’re on this fantastic winning streak.”

“I think you’re my good luck charm,” he winked at her.

She smiled, absurdly pleased by the endearment.

“Well, I certainly won’t miss it then, if the very game depends on me.” she laughed. 

They lapsed into silence again. Hermione studied him as he ate the last of the pudding, her pulse speeding as she watched his lips touch the same spot hers had on the spoon. She wanted those lips, wanted to taste them and kiss them and the aching need was like a slow fire inside of her. Perhaps it was time to test the waters. _Oh please let Ginny be right._

Ron stood up and went into the kitchen to put the empty bowl in the sink. When he returned, Hermione was standing at the window that looked out over the front garden. She heard him approaching and mentally rehearsed what she was going to say, taking a deep breath before turning.

“Ron-”

Her words lodged in her throat and all intelligent thought deserted her. He was standing not even a foot from her, so close she felt the warmth from his big body and smelled the spicy, citrusy scent of his cologne. Her heart began to thud faster in her chest and she felt a pool of heat gather low between her thighs. Her tongue unconsciously slipped out to wet suddenly dry lips.

“Mione.” 

That’s all he said, just one word and then he closed the distance between them and his lips covered her. Hermione stood absolutely still, trying desperately to wrap her brain around what was happening. Ron was kissing her, **kissing** her! His mouth moved warmly over hers, his lips firm and sure. His big hands came up to cradle her face and they were so warm and strong and his touch finally broke into her shocked stillness. All she could think was that Ron was kissing her, and she was kissing him back like she’d dreamed about a thousand times, and it was heavenly. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she opened them gladly to him. A soft gasp escaped her at the warm shock that was deliciously laced with cinnamon. She loved how it felt, how he tasted, how his big body seemed to envelope her. Hermione’s heart rejoiced and she never wanted it to end. Her hands lifted to rest on his shoulders, feeling the tensed muscles there.

Suddenly Ron pulled back, nearly knocking her off balance. He was breathing hard.

“Christ, Hermione. I didn’t mean to…bloody hell!” He ran his hands through his hair.

She looked at him dazedly. Why had he stopped? Everything had been proceeding just brilliantly.

“Ron?”

“Hermione, I-”

Just then Fred burst into the living room.

“Well there you two are! It may just interest you to know that Ginny’s went and gone into labour! Harry’s bringing her in and Hermione, she’s asking for you.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Harry, you’ve got to stop pacing. You’ll get to see Ginny as soon as she’s all settled. In the meantime you’re making me dizzy, mate.”

Harry halted his long strides and flopped down onto the couch beside Ron. 

“What can they possibly be doing up there?” he nodded to the ceiling above. After he had carried Ginny up to their temporary room, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley had shooed him out, asking him to just give them a few minutes to get her settled. The rest of the family was still out in the back garden. Everyone knew that first babies usually took their time making an appearance, so they had elected to wait out there since the evening was warm and breezy.

“I’ve no idea, but I’m sure you’d just be in the way. Don’t worry Harry, you’ll be there for the good part,” Ron smiled. “Mum’s been there when each of her grandkids were born, she knows what she’s doing.”

“I just glad Hermione is up there to help keep Ginny calm. She’s pretty good at that sort of thing.”

__

She’s brilliant at all kinds of things, especially kissing me until my knees are weak.

__

Though he kept those thoughts to himself, Ron was still reeling from that kiss. When he’d come back from the kitchen and had seen her standing there by the window, something in him had finally just snapped. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. She’d turned to him and had looked so achingly lovely, his only thought was that she was meant to be his. She’d tasted incredible and her body molded to his as if they had embraced a thousand times before. He could still feel the sensation of her soft lips and sweet tongue in his mouth. It was brilliant. 

So brilliant in fact that his control had slipped very quickly. He’d pulled back for a minute to try and calm himself, for Ron had been dangerously close to just throwing her on the floor and having his delicious way with her. She’d looked rather stunned, and he tried to apologize for practically attacking her like that. He should have gone a bit slower, he knew, and he wanted to tell her that. There were a million other things he wanted to tell her, too. And then **fucking Fred** had burst in and ruined everything. Hermione had been whisked upstairs by his mum and now here he sat. All he wanted to do was tell her he loved her. He wasn’t afraid to tell her anymore, not after her scorching reaction to his kiss, but now he didn’t have a bloody chance to talk to her. The newest addition to the family had inherited Harry’s lousy timing, it would seem. Ron lifted his eyes to the ceiling, wondering. . .

~~*~~

“Okay Ginny, just lift a bit so I can slide this underneath your legs.” 

Hermione placed a thick towel under the other woman’s thighs. Birthing babies was a right messy ordeal, Mrs. Weasley had assured her. Ginny seemed to be doing remarkably well. After her mum had cast a numbing charm, she was relatively comfortable. 

“So did you get a chance to talk to Ron?” she asked Hermione, who had turned to lay out the receiving blankets. Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Honestly, do you not having anything more important to think about? Like say, oh I don’t know, having this baby?”

“Well that numbing charm is working really well, and in a minute Harry will be in here and I won’t get a chance to talk to you. So fill me in, please?”

Hermione cast a quick glance at the door. Mrs. Weasley had gone to gather some other items she would need, but she wouldn’t be gone too long.

“Okay fine. Your brother kissed me.”

“What?!” 

“It was lovely, amazing really, but then he pulled back and I don’t know why. Before I could ask him, Fred burst into the room and told us you had gone into labour. Then Harry carried you in and so we really didn’t get a chance to talk at all.”

“But he did kiss you!”

“Yes, and I didn’t even have to nudge him into it!”

“Score one for Ron.” Ginny smiled but then a grimace passed over her face.

“Another contraction?”

“Yeah. Even with the numbing charm I can still feel all my muscles contracting, and it kind of takes my breath away.”

Mrs. Weasley returned just then with her arms full of supplies and Harry in tow.

“Ginny! How do you feel, love?” he knelt next to the bed.

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a smile, her hand coming up to cradle his cheek. “Mum cast a numbing spell and I hardly feel a thing. Now we just wait, I suppose.” 

In the end, it turned out they did not have to wait for too long. Ginny’s labour progressed rather quickly and in just under an hour she was straining to push the babe free from her.

“Just a few more like that, darling,” Mrs. Weasley wiped Ginny’s sweaty face with a cool cloth. Harry squeezed her hands and whispered softly to her. 

“Almost, love. Our baby is almost here.”

Another contraction hit and Ginny strained once more.

“That’s it my girl! The head is out, Ginny! Now try to relax and we’ll guide the little one the rest of the way.” 

Hermione knew she would never forget the sight of that beautiful little person entering the world. Mrs. Weasley tugged gently and all of a sudden a sweet cry pierced the air.

“A girl, Ginny! You and Harry have a daughter!” Hermione exclaimed delightedly.

“And a lovely big one at that!” the proud grandmother added, beaming happily.

“A girl,” Ginny sighed with a tired smile, leaning back against the pillows. “Give her to Harry, Mum.”

Mrs. Weasley quickly severed the cord then wrapped the squirming bundle snugly in a soft blanket. With a tearful smile, she placed the baby in Harry’s tentative arms and as Hermione witnessed Harry gazing upon his daughter for the first time, tears ran freely down her cheeks. Never had she been privy to such a look of utter devotion. The baby seemed to sense her father’s reverent scrutiny, for she stopped wiggling completely and simply looked back at him. 

“Let’s have a look, Harry,” came Ginny’s voice. Mrs. Weasley had finished cleaning her up and she was eager for her child. Harry slowly walked over and laid the baby in Ginny’s arms.

“Isn’t she amazing, Gin? Look what we made!”

Ginny tenderly ran a finger over the cap of dark fuzz on her daughter’s head. 

“Yes, she is amazing. She looks just like you.”

“Do you think?”

“No mistaking at all.”

Hermione gave Harry a huge hug.

“Congratulations, Daddy. She’s gorgeous. Have you two settled on a name yet?”

Ginny and Harry looked at each other.

“Oh yes,” Ginny replied. “Auntie Hermione, I’d like to formally introduce you to Syriah Potter.”

“Oh Ginny, it’s perfect!” Hermione turned to Harry. “For Sirius?”

“Yes. I just wish he was here to see her.”

She hugged him tightly once more.

“He sees her, Harry. He does.”

Just then, little Syriah let out a perturbed wail. Mrs. Weasley clucked softly.

“She’ll be a mite hungry, Ginny. It’s been a long day for you hasn’t it, my wee Syriah?”

Wanting to give the new family some privacy, Hermione started for the door. 

“I’ll let everyone know the baby’s arrived safely and all is well.”

As Hermione made her way downstairs, she could not stop smiling. Tiny Syriah was absolutely adorable was most definitely going to be spoiled rotten by all of her uncles. Especially Ron. 

__

Ron. I’ve got to find Ron. 

__

Hermione peeked into the living room but he wasn’t there. He must have gone out into the garden to wait with the others. 

As she stepped out the kitchen door, Hermione was greeted by over a dozen expectant faces. Total silence reigned. She grinned.

“It’s a girl.”

A huge cheer erupted, one that she was sure Harry and Ginny could hear from upstairs. Everyone began talking at once and asking questions. Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley came outside just then, and was more than happy to regal everyone with the details of the arrival of Syriah Potter. Hermione searched the faces in the crowd but did not see the one she was seeking. She grabbed Fred by the arm.

“Where’s Ron?”

“He said he couldn’t stand the waiting. You know what he’s like, hates to sit still when something’s going on. I think he took a walk down to the lake.”

Hermione snagged a jumper from the hook inside the kitchen door, one she distractedly recognized as one of Ron’s, before making her way down the worn, winding path that led to the lake. 

~~*~~

Ron stood staring out across the rippling water. There was a slight breeze and it made the reflection of the bright moonlight dance upon the glassy surface. He hadn’t been able to sit still for a minute longer after Harry had gone upstairs, so he’d told Fred he was taking a walk, and for someone to come and get him when the baby arrived. He thought that probably no one had even noticed he’d left, not with all the excitement going on. And there was a lot of excitement, he admitted. But the one thing that played in his mind more than anything else was that kiss. He replayed it over and over, unable to stop thinking about the sweetness of her mouth, the way she felt in his arms. 

The sound of someone approaching had him turning around. His eyes greedily drank in the sight of Hermione wrapped in his jumper, her hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. As she drew closer he saw she was grinning.

“The baby’s here?” he asked when she reached him.

“Yes.”

“And?” 

“A little girl, Ron. She’s perfect.”

“And Ginny?”

“Wonderful. She and Harry are both wonderful.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. A girl. What’s her name, did they say?”

“Syriah. Harry wanted to name her for Sirius.”

“Of course he would, wouldn’t he? Syriah Potter. It’s nice sounding, yeah?”

“Yes, it’s lovely.”

Ron moved a step closer to her and his heart kicked up in his chest.

__

Merlin, she’s gorgeous.

__

He reached out and took both of her hands in his. Hermione was amazed to feel a tremor go through him. _Is he nervous?._

“Hermione, earlier in the living room…I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t say it,” she cut him off quickly. “Please don’t say you didn’t mean to kiss me.”

Ron’s eyes widened.

“What? **Of course** I meant to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Well, why didn’t you ever do it, then?”

Ron took a deep breath .

“I almost did a few times. Do you remember after Dumbledore’s funeral and we were on the train?”

She nodded.

“I really wanted to then, but everything was just so mixed up, you know? So I waited and told myself that I would when the time was right. Except it never seemed to be. Plus, I was scared witless of you not **wanting** me to kiss you. I didn’t want to force anything on you, not when you’re so bloody important to me as a friend. I was scared of mucking things up, like I usually tend to. Then tonight...”

“Tonight?” she prompted softly when he didn’t say anything else.

“I just…I saw you standing there and I couldn’t help myself. Hermione, I’m not apologizing for kissing you. Not at all. It’s only that I didn’t mean to spring it on you so suddenly, without any warning and-”

“Stop,” Hermione laid a finger against his lips. “You’ve said your piece now please let me say mine, okay?”

He nodded.

“First of all, thank you for that incredible kiss,” she smiled as his brows lifted with surprise. “It’s exactly what I needed. What I’ve needed for such a long time. Isn’t it mental that the two of us have wanted the same thing and we were both so scared for the same reasons? I’ve wanted to be with you, truly be with you, for so long now. Only I was too frightened to say anything, too. Frightened that you didn’t feel the same and that I’d lose one of my best friends. We’re supposed to know each other so well, yet in this situation we were totally clueless, weren’t we? I suppose that sometimes the hardest things to see are the ones right in front of our face.”

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Then get on with it.”

She caught a glimpse of his grin before his lips covered her own. Hermione sighed with contentment and wrapped her arms about his neck, her fingers diving into the coppery waves she adored. This was where she was meant to be, where she’d ached to be for so long. Ron’s hands slid down her back to her waist and he pulled her tightly against him, molding them together from thigh to lips. His mouth slanted over hers again and again. Their tongues twined with each other, searching and tasting and learning. 

Ron thought surely this was the sweetest feeling in the world, the woman that he loved held tightly in his arms with her mouth clinging to his. Hermione ignited him with her scent, her taste, her passionate response. Her nails dug into his shoulders and he felt his cock twitch in response. He groaned and she pulled back a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing, love. You feel so bloody good in my arms, I can’t believe I waited so long to coax you here.”

Hermione smiled. 

“I can’t believe we were both so foolish,” she said wonderingly, raising her hand to cradle his cheek, and feeling the roughness of his beard stubble against her skin. Both of them were breathing hard, and she could feel his heart pounding against her breasts. Her own heart was thumping just as madly and she felt glorious. Ron turned his head and pressed a warm kiss to the center of her palm. A shiver tingled through her. 

“But we’ve found our way now, haven’t we?” His voice was husky.

“Yes, we certainly have.”

Ron’s lips claimed hers once again. After a deliciously long interlude, they left her lips to trail across her cheek to her ear. His breath was hot and she trembled.

“Do you know I dream about you, Mione?” his mouth fastened on a particularly sensitive spot behind her earlobe and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“D-do you?”

“Yes. A thousand times at least. And even though you are so incredibly sexy in my dreams, none of them even come close to the reality of having you here in my arms.”

Hermione felt tears threaten. She could scarcely believe this was happening and he was saying such wonderful things. Her heart was close to bursting with love for him. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes - his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Ron... I… I…”

“What’s this? My Hermione at a loss for words?” he teased gently.

“It does happen sometimes,” she sniffed with a tearful smile.

“It’s okay, love. Actions speak louder than words anyway.” 

And on that declaration his mouth swooped in to capture hers once more, and in that kiss was the beautiful promise of new beginnings. Ron’s big hands slipped down and cupped her bottom, pulling her tightly against the cradle of his thighs and there was no mistaking his hardness against her. The feel of him excited her immensely and Hermione pressed herself to him, her arms twined about his neck, her breasts snug against his hard chest. Her nipples hardened, tight and tingling, and she moaned softly against his mouth. She needed to feel more of him. Her hands slid under his cotton shirt and encountered his smooth back. Ron hissed in a tight breath.

“Damn woman, your hands feel good.”

“More, Ron. Please don’t think me wanton but I’ve waited so long and I’m simply going to burst if I cannot have more of you.”

Ron chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to her nose.

“I don’t think you wanton, Hermione. And even if I did, it’s a bloody turn-on. I want you just as much. It’s just that…” 

“What?”

“We don’t have to...you know…right now.”

“Don’t have to what? Make love?”

“Yeah.”

“But what if I want to? More than anything else in this whole world? We’re not children anymore and besides, I’d say this moment is long overdue.”

“Oh Christ, I was hoping you’d say that!”

Hermione laughed as Ron scooped her up and carried her the short distance to a secluded little glade under the shelter of tall willow trees. He set her on her feet and unwrapped the jumper from around her. She smiled as he spread it on the ground then eased her down upon it, following her quickly. There was more than enough moonlight for her to see the desire in his expression. Their mouths met once again, and Hermione thrilled at the feel of his solidness pressed so close to her. Her hands searched out the buttons on his shirt and undid them one by one while he kissed her neck and shoulders. When she finally had the last one free, she pushed the shirt from him and greedily ran her hands over the broad expanse of his chest, which was dusted with soft ginger hair. He growled huskily and bit her softly on the neck, causing her to gasp.

Ron’s fingers slid quickly under the hem of her tank top and pushed it up, revealing a flat stripe of her stomach above the waistband of her skirt. He pressed kisses to her navel and ribs before pushing it up higher and encountering her lace clad breasts. Lowering his head, he gently brushed his mouth over the tops of each one. Hermione’s fingers dug into his scalp and she squirmed and sighed happily. 

Ron lifted his gaze to her, his hands on the front fastening of her bra. She didn’t look away as he popped the clasp free and her breasts spilled out. His eyes dropped.

“Ah Hermione, you’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured.

Her breasts were soft and full, pale in the moonlight. He lowered his head and opened his mouth over one, inwardly smiling at the deep gasping breath she took. He could feast on these for days. His lips traveled across her satiny skin from one breast to the other, and then back again, sucking on her nipples, biting them gently, and stroking them with his hot tongue. He loved the soft little breathy sounds she was making.

Hermione’s world shrank to only Ron and the fantastic sensations he was bringing to life inside her. She arched her back, pressed herself more fully against him. He gave her breasts one last languid lick and then pulled back. She opened her eyes dazedly and realized he was gently easing her top over her head and removing her bra altogether. He was on his knees beside her, just looking down at her lying there, and she supposed that maybe she should be a bit embarrassed to have him gazing upon her body for the first time. But she wasn’t, somehow. This was Ron, **her** Ron now, and all she felt at the moment was an overwhelming desire to be claimed by him. Her hands went to the waistband of her skirt, and wordlessly she pushed it down past her hips and kicked it away, which left her clad in only her lacy, pink knickers. 

Ron felt his mouth go dry. _She’s trying to kill me._

He unbuckled his belt and the snaps on his jeans but didn’t get a chance to push them down before Hermione was on her knees in front of him, her arms about his neck and her lips an inch from his.

“I can’t get enough of you, Ron,” she confessed softly. She licked lightly at the corner of his mouth and Ron forgot about the fastenings on his jeans, and instead pulled her tightly against him, his tongue thrusting deeply to taste her, his hands tangling in her hair to hold her still for his possession. Their kisses turned desperate and wild. She pulled him down atop her as he tried to kick out of his jeans and boxers. They laughed and cursed as they fought with their clothes, until finally there were no more barriers between them. Heated skin met heated skin. Ron lifted his lips from hers long enough to search in his clothes for his wand and quickly cast a contraceptive charm. Hermione was glad Ron had thought of it, because if it had been left up to her she’d have totally forgotten. That was how much he affected her. The warm weight of him settled atop her once more, and she shifted restlessly against him. 

“Please,” the single word slipped quietly from her lips. Ron looked down at her and knew he would always remember the way she looked at this moment with her skin flushed, hair wild, and lips wet and rosy from his kisses. She was lovely.

He smiled and it was such a **Ron** smile that Hermione felt tears threaten once more. It was her best friend smiling at her, this amazing and incredible man she had loved for so long, and tonight he was all hers. 

“No regrets?” he asked softly.

“Never,” she vowed.

“Ahh Hermione, I’ve loved you for a decade, do you know that?”

And with that confession on his lips, he slipped deeply into her. Her eyes widened, as much from his admission as from the feel of him filling her so completely. The feeling was overwhelming and she had to take a second to catch her breath. He stilled.

“Am I hurting you?” His mouth brushed her ear and she sighed sweetly.

“No. You feel amazing, so deep inside me. Please don’t stop.”

“Not if my life depended on it, love,” he laughed raggedly.

He thrust into her with smooth powerful strokes, and Hermione’s breath lodged in her chest. The reality of having him like this, being with him like this, was so much better than she’d ever imagined. And she had imagined it a **lot.** But what she had never expected was this feeling of… completeness. Ron was a part of her, she was a part of him and even when they’re bodies were no longer joined she knew that their hearts still would be. Forever. She clutched him tighter - amazed, terrified and in complete awe of the feelings rioting through her. Her nails scratched down his back and caused him to growl huskily.

Ron slowed the tempo of his strokes a bit and brought his mouth back down to hers. She tasted so good. His Hermione tasted better than chocolate frogs even, and it left him breathless. 

“Mione,” he groaned against her lips, “you feel so fucking fantastic and I’ve wanted this so much. I don’t know if I can wait much longer...”

“Don’t hold back, Ron. Let me feel you.”

She urged him on with her lips against any exposed skin she could reach: his mouth, jaw, neck, chest…all were tasted. Ron thrust harder and harder and she felt the tremors begin to quake deep inside her. Her thighs tightened about his hips.

“Ahhh, so good. Please…oh God, **Ron!”**

She screamed his name as she came, and the sound of it pushed Ron over the edge. He seized up and came hard with a growl, his face buried against her neck. Hermione tightened her arms about him and held him closely, stunned and sated. 

They lay pressed close together for a long while as their heartbeats slowly returned to a more even pace. He finally lifted his head and gazed down at her. Everything he had ever wanted in the whole world was here in his arms. He smiled.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, I always thought it would be brilliant between us but that surpassed even **my** expectations.”

She laughed with delight.

“It was rather outstanding, wasn’t it?”

“Mmm hmm.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips then gently disentangled himself from her. Hermione spied her wand laying not far away. Reaching for it, she quickly cast a cleansing spell on the two of them. Ron pulled his boxers and jeans back on, then slipped his Oxford over her head before pulling Hermione into his lap, his back against a tall willow tree. They cuddled together, lost in the pleasure of simply being with each other like this. It was new, yet they were relaxed and secure, as though they had been lovers for ages. Her eyes were closed and as his fingers stroked gently through her hair she hummed in contentment.

“Ron?”

“Hmm?”

She opened her eyes and smiled tenderly at him.

“Have you really loved me for a decade?”

His fingers stilled in her hair.

“I can barely remember a time I haven’t loved you. I know I’ve done and said lots of things in the past that may contradict that, and all I can say is I was young. And scared. And I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Like you said, we were young and sometimes foolish. We’re together now and that’s all that counts. Oh, and Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too. So much.”

Ron pulled her tightly against his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear those words from her until right this very minute.

“ Thank you, love.”

“For what?”

“For telling me. For loving me.”

Their lips met again in the sweetest of kisses, the kiss of a boy and a girl who had finally found their way home. To each other. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione sat and waited patiently for the last of the revelers to leave the pitch. The Cannons had been glorious today, due in large part to Ron’s brilliance as Keeper. She smiled as she remembered the instant when the snitch had been caught and the Cannons declared the victors. She had cheered until her voice was hoarse, and then when the players had done a victory lap about the pitch and Ron had caught her eye and grinned, she had cheered even louder. He’d looked fantastic to her hungry eyes, all sweaty and manly in his scuffed and dirty Quidditch robes, and just knowing that he was hers, **her man** , had caused hot frissons of excitement to spark through her.

Had it only been three days since he had made love to her so tenderly beneath that willow tree? Such a short time, but her life had changed completely. Everyone had reacted with delight to the news that the two of them were together. They had endured a lot of ribbing and “it’s about time!” from Ron’s family, especially the twins, but it was all in fun. George and Samantha’s wedding had been grand and Harry had even carried Ginny and baby Syriah downstairs and comfortably ensconced them in a padded lounge chair so that they would not miss out on any of the celebration. He had hovered close to them all day, adorably protective and glowing with pride as he gazed at his two girls. 

That evening after the party, Hermione and Ron had gone to his flat and spent the rest of the night talking and laughing and making love, until they fell into an exhausted sleep around dawn. She’d loved waking up in his arms late Sunday morning, nuzzled from sleep by the sensation of his lips against her neck, his hands roaming boldly over the curves of her hips. After spending a glorious day together, Hermione had bid him farewell with much regret late that evening. Because of his intense practices the day before a big game and the manager’s strictly enforced curfew, she wasn’t able to see him at all on Monday. He had owled her a naughty note late that evening telling her he missed her, and informing her in great detail of what she had to look forward to once the game was over and he had her to himself. Hermione had flushed warmly with excitement as she read the words and she had tossed restlessly in bed that night, her mind filled with images of all of the erotic promises he had made to her.

So here she sat, waiting for the last of the Quidditch fans and players to exit the pitch, waiting for her Ron. She exchanged pleasantries with those she knew all the while discreetly counting the emerging, freshly showered players until she was firmly sure that all of them had left, save one. She wondered what was taking him so long. A bold idea took root in her mind and she wondered if she dared… _Oh, sod it. Why not?_

Hermione made her way quietly down the deserted corridors to the men’s locker room, encountering no one on her way. All was quiet within; the steamy, humid air still scented with soap. As she made her way down rows of benches and lockers, her trainers made no sound on the tiled floor. Coming to a halt at the end of the last row her breath caught in her throat. The sight before her was so achingly sexy that her mouth positively watered.

Ron stood not five feet from her, gloriously naked. He was rubbing his wet hair vigorously with a towel so therefore did not immediately see her. Her eyes hungrily roamed his body, admiring the strong muscles and smooth skin that her fingers ached to touch. She winced at the fresh scratches and bruises he had sustained during the match, in particular a nasty scrape across his left bicep. He finished briskly rubbing his hair and tossed the towel aside before reaching into the locker to pull out clean boxers and jeans. As he stepped into the boxers and pulled them up over the delicious curve of his bare arse, Hermione allowed a soft sound of regret to escape her. His head immediately snapped up and his eyes widened, first with shock and then delight, as he gazed at her.

“Mione! Come here love, I’m starved for you!”

She hurtled herself into his open arms and his mouth closed over hers at once, kissing her thoroughly until her knees went weak and she sagged against him. He buried his face against her neck and held her snugly.

“Merlin, I’ve missed you.” he groaned.

“I’ve missed you too.” She sighed happily. “You were brilliant today, Ron. I’m so proud of you.”

“It was a tough match, eh? But a good one. I loved knowing you were in the stands cheering me on.”

“Harry sends his regrets. I stopped by to see him and Ginny and the baby today. He would have loved to see you win this one.”

“Ah, but there’s a new love in his life now isn’t there? One that has him firmly wrapped about her tiny little finger.” Ron smiled and Hermione’s heart was close to bursting with love for him. She longed for the day when a child of their own would have **him** wrapped about his or her little finger. She cuddled her cheek against his warm chest.

“What was taking you so long in here anyway? Everyone else is gone.”

“That last dive I made really wrenched my shoulder, and I took an extra long shower because the hot water felt good on my muscles. And anyway, we were supposed to meet in an hour for dinner, remember?”

“I couldn’t wait that long,” she confessed with a grin. “I hardly slept at all last night, thanks to your wicked letter.”

“Liked that, did you? Bloody curfew. Just wanted to remind you how much I ache for you, woman.”

“Oh, you reminded me all right. A little too well.” 

Hermione reached up and pressed her mouth to his once more. God, she could kiss this man forever. His beautiful mouth stroked against hers again and again, and his tongue wrung a whimper of desire from her as he explored all the warm crevices of her mouth. She felt warmth pooling between her thighs and she pressed them together against the hot ache. When he finally drew back, she had to consciously unclench her hands from the strong muscles of his shoulders that she had been gripping tightly. Ron laughed a bit unsteadily.

“Damn woman, if you only knew what you do to me.”

“If it’s anything at all like what you do to me then I‘m fairly sure I do, Ron Weasley.”

“I have an idea, love.”

“What’s that?”

“Instead of going out for dinner why don’t we just go straight home to my flat, make love until we’re exhausted and then order take away?” 

“You don’t want to go out and celebrate?”

“Oh, I’ll be celebrating, all right.”

Hermione laughed at the wicked glint in his eye.

Two hours later, Hermione stretched languorously and pressed a soft kiss to Ron’s naked chest. They had done just as he had proposed, and were now curled up comfortably in the middle of the plush rug in front of his fireplace, a blanket tangled around them. The warmth from the fire was soothing. Ron had made good on every promise in his naughty letter, and she was comfortably spent. She let loose with a deep blissful sigh, which caused the chest beneath her cheek to rumble with laughter.

“Well, if that isn’t the most satisfied sound I’ve ever heard.”

She glanced up at him and saw his sapphire eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And why shouldn’t I be satisfied, eh? My arms are filled with the man I love, and my belly is filled with delicious curry. I’m one happy woman.”

“And I’m one lucky man.” He cupped her cheek and pressed a warm kiss to her lips.

The lay there in comfortable silence for a while longer until she felt Ron gently nudge her shoulder. Hermione realized drowsily that she had been very close to drifting off to sleep. That’s what an hour of robust lovemaking and some yummy food will do to a body. 

“Mione?”

“Mmm?”

“I don’t remember ever being as happy as I’ve been these last few days. Well… yesterday was bloody awful, not being able to even see you.”

“I know. It was awful for me too.”

“Although there **was** one good thing about yesterday.”

“And what was that?”

“Well, in between practice and dinner I had a few moments to myself. And there was something I needed to do. Did you know that Cho is now a renowned jewelry maker?”

“Cho Chang? Is she? I didn’t know that.” Hermione replied sleepily, vaguely wondering why Ron was telling her this.

“Oh, yes she is. She has the coolest little shop in Diagon Alley and she’s apparently gained quite a reputation for beautiful and unique pieces.”

“Hmmm that’s nice.”

“So naturally, when I wanted something for the most beautiful and unique person in my life, I went to her.”

Hermione’s eyes popped open when she felt him shift against her and take a hold of her left hand. She lifted her head to gaze at him.

“Ron, what —”

“She was ever so helpful. I was set on diamonds of course, but then she showed me this and I knew it was just what I‘d been looking for.”

She looked down as she felt Ron slip something onto her finger. Her eyes widened. Set in a slender band of braided white gold was a perfect, brilliant, round blue sapphire. It was flanked on each side by two smaller but equally beautiful stones. Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears and a lump rose in her throat. They were the exact color of Ron’s eyes. He was still staring down at her hand and when he spoke his voice was low.

“Sapphire is the ‘Stone of Destiny.’ I thought that was quite fitting since you, Hermione, are and always have been my destiny.” He raised his eyes to her and she was floored by the naked emotion in his gaze. “They are also supposed to bring fulfillment of your dreams. A three stone ring like this signifies our past, present, and future. And I would really love to see this ring on your finger and know that you are mine, will always be mine.”

“Oh Ron.”

“There’s so much I want to say to you, Mione. I want to do this right. You mean the world to me, you **are** my world, and I never want to be without you again. So I’d like to know…” 

“Know what?” she asked softly through her tears.

“Will you marry me, Hermione?” he said simply.

“Oh Ron, yes!” She flung her arms about him and clutched him tightly to her, laughing and crying all at once. “I cannot think of anything more wonderful than to be your wife. I’ll wear this gorgeous ring proudly and you will **always** know that I am yours. I love you, Ron.”

“And I love you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”

Their lips met and the rest of the world fell away for a little while. When the kiss ended, Ron took her hands in his, his thumb running gently over the symbol of his love for her.

“I was a bit scared that you’d think it was too soon. But then I remembered something you said that night, under the willow tree. When I told you we didn’t have to make love, you smiled and said “we’re not children anymore and besides, I’d say this moment is long overdue.” That’s actually when I made the decision to ask you as soon as I could. We don’t have to get married any time soon, Mione, but I just need to know that someday, you will.”

“I will. And I don’t think it‘s too soon at all. We‘ve loved each other for a decade, after all.” 

Ron laughed as she echoed the words he had spoken to her when they first made love. She looked down at her ring once more, sparkling in the firelight. “It’s positively beautiful, Ron.”

“ **You’re** positively beautiful, Hermione. Now come here, my wife to be.”

He pulled her down and covered her body with his own. Hermione gloried in the feel of him, the sensation of him loving her. This man was hers, would always be hers. They belonged to each other now and the future was looking very bright indeed.

The End


End file.
